Kenneth was a typical villager who worked in the fields for many years. He worked the land, planted and cultivated crops, and then sold them to his neighbors and lived off the money. All in all, when you’re an unpretentious old man in your 60s, that’s enough to be happy. But this job is not an easy one.
The garden requires a lot of time and effort. Kenneth himself was sure that it was only because of his efforts in the garden that he was still in such good shape. And indeed, if you look closely, any other person of his age has a lot of diseases. But Kenneth feels good. That’s how it is – the earth loves its own people, and who is her own? Those who take care of it, appreciate it.
Kenneth buried his wife less than a year ago. What can I say, life is not good for him without her. While he was working, he didn’t think about her, but at night when he came home, he pined for her. It’s not the same without Agnes. It’s not enough that he learned how to cook by himself, he’s got to take care of the housekeeping too.
He has no grandchildren, no children. He does everything himself. Now, only the dog makes the long, lonely evenings better. This dog was given to him by his neighbors, Kenneth, John, and his daughter. They must have felt sorry for the old man. Well, at least he is not alone now.
“Have you thought about getting married again?” John asked him. Then Kenneth only laughed. “It was understandable. John was a young man, 30 years old. You can still think about such things. John, are you laughing at me? Who’s going to look at me when I’m this old?” replied Kenneth.
He didn’t know yet that there would be someone who would look at him. If you think city women are shifty and pushy, well, they aren’t. You haven’t seen rural women yet. It just so happened that now they were seriously looking at Kenneth. They found out that he lived well, so the lonely women began to go to his house.
Kenneth wondered if they lined up there. Each made her own attempt to win the difficult heart of the old man. But their timid attempts were categorically rejected by the old man. At first, the women tried to wiggle around him as much as possible.
Then one came up with the idea of offering to help him around the house. That’s something Kenneth would not refuse. And she was not mistaken. He did not refuse it. Except that instead of the expected sympathy, the old lady only got a position as a free housekeeper. She came once a week and cleaned his house. She kept trying to talk to him. “Kenneth, how do you feel about soup? Because I made some while you were working, you know,” she asked coquettishly and put the soup on the table.
“How could I not like it?” the old man retorted grumpily. “Thanks for the soup. Now go, I prefer to eat alone.” The old woman’s face creased, but she didn’t interfere and left the house. “Don’t think Kenneth was rude. He just didn’t like women trying so hard to earn his trust. He was fine as he was. He had been with his wife for almost 35 years. So, to live with another at that age, it’s not human.”
But the women continued their attempts to please him. Kenneth didn’t mind, so at least they cooked dinner regularly. But that’s all he could hope for here. That’s what he told one of these women. “Oh, not at all,” Kenneth replied amiably. “What strange hints you speak of. We are kind to you.” “Your old yourself, and yet you won’t settle down,” the old woman was embarrassed, but she didn’t cross him.
That’s how Kenneth lived in general. At some point, he got used to these old ladies. He was not bored. The old ladies were always telling him some gossip. And then one day, nothing foreboded trouble.
Kenneth had already worked the ground and now enjoyed relaxing in the sun. At the same time, he cleaned his tools. Another woman, he’d forgotten her name, was fussing with him. She did not take offense. She was the most talkative of all. Ken sat nearby and listened. There was something pleasant and relaxed about the atmosphere.
Kenneth flattered himself that he was surrounded by women, even if they were older. On the contrary, he felt less lonely. He had friends now, but not with the best of intentions. But still, have you heard what people are talking about?” she asked. “Oh, what do people say?” the old man replied. “You’re like a kind of grandfather to John’s daughter, aren’t you?” The old woman clarified. Kenneth was wary. “Well, I’m not her own grandfather, of course, but I love the girl. Why? Are they in some kind of trouble?” The old lady took a seat next to him.
“John has a mental disorder,” she said in a whisper, leaning toward the man’s ear. “He’s going crazy.” “You’re the one who’s going crazy, mouth,” Kenneth insultedly. But somehow, he became more wary. “It’s not me, it’s John,” she responded grudgingly. “Listen to what I’m about to tell you.” The story itself was kind of strange, but the old man listened to the end.
Next to John lived a woman with her husband and children. The territory of both families is small, so everything is clearly visible. At first, it seemed to be business as usual. John returns home in the evening, bringing his daughter with him.
The girl looks normal, doesn’t give the impression that she is not being fed or cared for. John and his daughter lived alone. He and his wife divorced almost a year ago, and she left the baby to her husband. As hard as it was, John was glad of this turn of events. He loved his daughter madly, so he was considered a good father in the village. Many wives held him up as an example to their husbands.
But then, a strange thing began to happen. According to a neighbor, John is always doing something in the barn. And he goes in there at night, and he’s in there doing something until the morning. “And what? You don’t think a man can work in the barn after work?” queried Kenneth. But the old lady again brushed it off. “Of course he can,” she agreed. “But the neighbor followed him. She stayed up all night until she saw him carry his daughter
User out of there in the morning.”
“What are you talking about?” the old man didn’t understand.
“Listen to this,” she continued. “She decided to check the next night to see what was going on in John’s barn. She was really following him. She lurked somewhere near the fence, and she sees John, annoyed, coming out of the house and dragging the girl after him. The girl is crying, and he’s cursing at her, ‘Shut up, get in the barn quick!’ and drags her to that ill-fated barn.”
Again, the neighbor waited and watched. She remembered when John came back from the barn yesterday. She decided that she would come back closer to that hour, and she could hear the girl crying even from the neighboring yard. Thoughts immediately began to creep into her head, but she tried with all her might not to think about it. Eventually, she went to bed.
She came back at about the same hour as yesterday. The light in the barn was still on, and in five minutes, John carried his sleeping daughter in his arms. “All in all, it’s strange,” the neighbor wondered. “And what she’s checked several times, does he take her there every night?”
“I couldn’t hear any confidence in Ken’s voice anymore,” he couldn’t think of anything bad yet, but mentally he agreed with the old woman that it was strange. Why would a man drag a baby into the barn every night? And the baby was also crying, which obviously did not comfort the neighbors.
“Every night he goes into the barn with his daughter,” she replied. “I’m not lying. The neighbor followed him several more times, from start to finish. And now she just watches before she goes to sleep to see if the neighbor’s barn light is on or off. And yes, the light is on every night.”
Kenneth wondered. He had known John for almost 10 years. He and his wife had moved here because the girl had developed some kind of allergy to city dust or was it asthma? Whatever it was, his daughter was a real princess to him. To hear that John was suddenly tormenting her like this, something wasn’t adding up. People don’t go crazy that fast.
“Well, no, we have to find out for ourselves,” he voiced aloud. “When did you say he usually takes his daughter out?”
“Well,” the neighbor said, “about 10 o’clock at night.”
“What are you going to do? Go over there yourself?” she asked.
“I’ll go myself, and don’t you tell anyone,” Kenneth threatened her with a fist.
“They seem to be talking about something else,” the old man said. But Kath wasn’t really listening. All his thoughts were on the story John and his daughter had told him. He imagined what he would do with the women. The neighbor’s terrible hunch was confirmed. What would happen to the girl if John really had a mental disorder? It was unpleasant to think about it.
So, the old man went about his business. Toward the evening, the old lady sorted out the little things around the house and went to her house. Kenneth took the dog in his arms and, settling down on the bench, began to think. The dog was the best advisor and conversationalist, so he spoke the story out loud to the dog again. The dog listened, really listened, and occasionally tilted his head, expressing deep interest.
“Here’s what I think,” Kenneth finally said. “You and I should check it out. Anything could appear to people, couldn’t it?”
The dog got up on his hind legs and barked approvingly. Kenneth wondered again what an understanding creature he was.
“Tell you what, you and I will go out there together today, and we’ll see what’s going on on the spot, okay?”
This time, the dog didn’t just bark; he gave his master a paw. Then they ate dinner together, not hurrying anywhere. The dog had a few bones from the soup, which he gladly chewed but very slowly, as if he were copying his master’s behavior. It was very amusing to watch.
Dinner was finished, and the old man decided to get some sleep. He ordered the dog to wake him up. He slept badly, but without dreams. At the appointed hour, the dog began to bark rhythmically, better than any alarm clock and almost without annoyance. The old man stretched himself, put his feet down on the floor, and yawned loudly. The dog was already sitting in front of the bed, looking at him with his big loyal eyes.
“Well, shall we go?” and the dog barked happily. The night was still warm, so if he suddenly had to sit outside until morning, nothing bad would happen. John and his daughter lived at the other end of the village. That is why Kenneth did not notice anything and only learned about what was happening from other people. It took 20 minutes on foot to get to the other side of the village. The dog jumped merrily by his side, and Kenneth walked, limping a little.
He and the dog made it fairly quickly. To the old man’s surprise, other people had gathered near the fence. His guest of the day was at the head of the group. But it didn’t stop there. She gathered that neighbor, her husband, and several other old ladies around her.
“Well, what are you dears doing here?” the old man asked.
“What do you mean? Did you think we were going to leave you here alone?”
“Well, no,” said one of the old ladies. “If John is crazy, he might kill you. Did you think of that?”
“Yeah, and you’ll all defend me together, right?” laughed Kenneth.
“Of course, we will. And this is no time to fight,” all right everybody, shut up!” the old man said quietly and signaled for everyone to sit down. It was certainly an interesting sight. They could only hope that Jon would not notice anything. The nights in the village are dark, and lighting is always a problem here. From the outside, the company looked like a clump of darkness under a fence, which seemed to blend in nicely with the overall night landscape.
There was still a few minutes left, but John came out of the house almost immediately. “Go to the barn!” the father said aggressively, running outside. The child, judging by the small window in the opening, was on the porch of the house.
“I don’t want to! I don’t want to! I don’t want to!” the girl screamed. “It’s scary out there. There are spiders!”
“Go to the barn, I said!” John stomped his foot from the outside. The scene did look threatening. The more the girl contradicted her father, the angrier he got.
“I won’t go!” the girl said indignantly. “You go to the barn yourself! Mommy! Mommy, I want my mommy!”
Then a stopping sound was heard. Apparently, the girl thought to run and hide. Everyone couldn’t see Jon’s face, but Kenneth could have sworn it didn’t radiate love and kindness. He ran into the house, shouting out to his daughter, “What a little rascal she was!”
The whole company began to speak softly. “He beats her,” the old woman said sadly. “Or worse,” the other added in an ominous tone.
“Stop talking!” Kenneth said and listened. Just at that moment, John ran out of the house. He was walking in large strides, leaning heavily on the ground because he was dragging the girl. John was about six feet tall, so he looked even more sinister, as if some monster or terrible beast were kidnapping a crying baby. The girl wouldn’t stop crying; sometimes, she even cried out, “Daddy, you’re hurting me! Mommy, I want my mommy!”
The girl’s cries fell on deaf ears as John continued his determined march. How can he be so heartless? Almost cried one of the neighbors, herself a mother of three. “Yeah, John sure has lost his mind,” her husband said quietly. He was a calm man, but even he was shaken by what was happening.
John, meanwhile, still managed to cope with the five-year-old girl and drag her into the barn. The girl was crying, and the dark room frightened her very much. The next second, John flicked a switch, and light filled the small space. Kenneth wondered; it seemed to him that the last time he had been here, there had been no light in the barn. Why had John put electricity in his barn? The questions were only getting bigger. Obviously, he was doing something there that required light.
The girl kept crying, but John’s harsh cries could no longer be heard, and the girl seemed to have calmed down a bit too. “Well, what are we going to do next? Are we just going to stand here?” the old lady asked, confusedly.
“I’ll go over there to the barn and see what John’s doing,” said Kenneth.
“Kenneth, are you a fool? Have you seen how big he is? He’ll kill you and not notice,” objected the neighbor.
“What do you suggest? Who wanted the old man by the way?” he asked.
“I’ll go with you,” the neighbor’s wife said indignantly and poked her husband in the shoulder. “Go, and if he resists, grab the girl and run,” she admonished.
The men looked at each other, nodded, and walked away. The neighbor had a knife in his pocket, which he tried to pull out. “What’s that for?” frightened Kenneth asked.
“What if he’s crazy?” the man exclaimed. It added, “Calm down, I won’t throw myself at him unless he starts fighting.”
Kenneth nodded, and they both moved toward the barn. The faithful dog ran behind them. The walk to the barn was unbearably long. It always is when you really don’t want to see what’s about to come before your eyes, but it’s necessary. Kenneth looked in first; his neighbor followed. He still had the knife in his hand, and there was silence in the barn. They didn’t even immediately find the girl they ran to help instead.
A surprise awaited them; John stood in front of them. “Neighbors, what are you doing?” he asked in a whisper. “What’s wrong?”
“Freeze!” the neighbor threatened in a bass voice and put his other free hand on John’s shoulder.
The man responded by looking at his palm in surprise. “John, tell us honestly,” Kenneth began, “where do you drag your daughter every night? A woman saw you almost beat her.”
“Me?” the young man wondered. “I never laid a finger on her, and those who dare touch her, I will personally break their fingers.”
“You tell us the truth,” the old man interrupted him. “Where is the girl, and what are you doing here with her?”
“Who do you take me for?” John was shocked. “She’s over there, sleeping.” And the man pointed to his daughter.
The men were surprised. They didn’t assume that the potential victim would just be sleeping. And John laughed back, “What did you think of me? It’s my fault that this child doesn’t get a good night’s sleep at home? No matter how many windows you open, she’s hot and she sneezes. At least she sleeps here. I spent all night looking after her.”
“And why did she scream that you hurt her?” the old man clarified, at a loss.
“So, she’s faking it. She’s a kid,” John replied cheerfully. “You can see for yourself. If I’d hurt her, there’d probably be marks too.” Indeed, there was nothing like that. The girl was sleeping peacefully.
Then, the women came up. John told them everything. The dog rushed to the girl, his favorite. The girl grumbled in her sleep and pulled the dog to her. Kenneth has drawn many conclusions since then. That’s how you start blaming someone; it turns out it wasn’t their fault at all.
